


a moment / alone

by vaultbug



Series: nail and shield [4]
Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: 750 words challenge, Banter, Character Study, M/M, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26380219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaultbug/pseuds/vaultbug
Summary: "No," Quirrel dejected -- but Tiso caught the slight interest in the bug's eyes before it was extinguished. The bug gestured to his abandoned skewer. "You have not finished eating."He eyed his skewer, then stuck the rest in his mandibles all at once."Charming," Quirrel deadpanned.
Relationships: Quirrel & Tiso (Hollow Knight), Quirrel/Tiso (Hollow Knight)
Series: nail and shield [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641145
Comments: 5
Kudos: 81





	a moment / alone

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a 750+ words draft with no particular goal in mind! ^^ man, i really must like quirrel and tiso sparring.

"I want you to know," Tiso said when the dusk had settled and they were winding down from travelling, "You have atrocious form while defending yourself."

Quirrel looked to him as if he had grown two heads; which Tiso might as well have, considering his track record for being beaten at the coliseum and other areas. But those were battles of necessity and training, not ones where he could afford to nag another partner on their faults -- and tonight Tiso was feeling particularly captious.

"Excuse me?" The bug hummed. There was little insult in his words.

"You heard me." Tiso leaned across their shared campsite and gestured vaguely at Quirrel's nail with one hand, the other occupied with his skewer of grub and mushroom. "You have terrible form," he simplified. "You treat the nail as if it was my shield -- which it is clearly not. I've killed bugs who fought with more to protect themselves." Which was not a lie, but not truth either. It would attract Quirrel's attention, all the same.

Quirrel took the bait, but with light laughter behind his words. "So you're calling me offensive?"

"No. I'm calling you a mess."

Laughter did come then, a light crow. His fellow partner returned to caring for his own weapon, but not without his own jabs. "You speak fine words for one who spars with lack of traditional form."

"I've learned tradition, but I see no point to use it. You, however, are loose with yours."

"You critique me as if you use a nail." The pill-bug snorted.

Tiso considered that, then said, "Just because I do not use one does not mean I am not knowledgeable."

"Or perhaps you're full of fluke," Quirrel teased.

Aha. The challenge was set. Tiso moved forward then, enough that Quirrel was caught off-guard and stiffened. A swell of excitement filled him at that, the realization that Quirrel lost composure when he drew too near. The quiet scholar was oh so easy to tempt to emotion and so slow to hide it. He wouldn't have it any other way. "A fight then, to prove it."

"No," Quirrel dejected -- but Tiso caught the slight interest in the bug's eyes before it was extinguished. The bug gestured to his abandoned skewer. "You have not finished eating."

He eyed his skewer, then stuck the rest in his mandibles all at once.

"Charming," Quirrel deadpanned.

"Shut up." He wiped his mouth, then retook his stance. "Come. Let's fight. Or are you too old for that?"

Quirrel hesitated, long enough for Tiso to consider launching the shield directly at his head. Then the bug sighed, picked himself up, and swiped a few bits of gravel onto the dying embers of their camp. With one fine movement he drew his nail to the side. "You know," the scholar said dryly, "You could just ask me for a spar rather than attempting to get a rise out of me like that."

Tiso blinked. Then he grinned. "And where's the fun in that?"

"It'll spare my patience the pain."

"I think you like it, you sly prick."

There it was again, a slight twitch of the left hand that betrayed him. Tiso was beginning to feed on those small moments with ravenous hunger. "Let's take it slow," Quirrel said instead. "I'm still sore from the beetle you made lovely friends with in the City. Do you always make such kind impressions, by the by?"

"Do you always have a plan to kill everyone you meet?"

Quirrel stepped forward and tested the length between them with a tight jab of nail. Tiso took the weight on his left arm. For all his prattle about taking it slow, the bug's movement was swift. "You cannot blame me in these climates," he said once he had finished engraving a few more nicks into Tiso's shield. "The orange, the black. This dreary corpse makes for scarce friends along the paths."

"Except I," Tiso said. He swung his shield the next time Quirrel went to jab and both winced at the loud shriek it made in their glade. "And that little pale thing, although their company is...questionable."

"Just because you're salty over the little traveller does not mean they are not a friend," his partner laughed. "And what's that of you being friendly? If I remember correctly you challenged me to a duel the first time we met and I nearly killed you."

"It was still friendly."

"I remember your intentions."

"Still friendly," Tiso insisted and swiped again. His shell, for some implacable reason, was growing hot around the collar. He ignored his own flush and took offensive in their spar. "Not like others. And I could've won, had you not surprised me with such vigour in those old bones. I was just testing you, that's all to it. An esteemed warrior like myself..."

"One wonders why such an esteemed warrior needs to challenge an old bug meditating by the lake," Quirrel laughed and Tiso couldn't say anything to that.


End file.
